The Red Lady of Winterfell
by LadyCassie
Summary: There is a tale about the Great Lady of Winterfell, of how she slumbers beneath the great stone castle, awaiting her beloved's return. What once had been filled with laughter and life, now stands empty, no one daring to venture into the now derelict castle. (The Lady of Winterfell series 3)


_**I do not own Game of Thrones**_

* * *

There is a tale about the Great Lady of Winterfell, of how she slumbers beneath the great stone castle, awaiting her beloved's return. What once had been filled with laughter and life, now stands empty, no one daring to venture into the now derelict castle.

The Great Lady Sansa Stark is said to be a myth, if not for her portrait hanging on the wall of the grand hall, no one would believe that such a person had ever truly existed.

Hair the color of fire, eye's the same shade of blue as the north sky, and skin as pale as the landscape that surrounds the castle. The Great Lady's beauty is uncomparable, none ever coming close to matching the Winter Queen. There is not a lot known about Sansa Stark, other than that she ruled as Queen in the North.

The North guards its secrets well. Its people are loyal, honorable and would die before the gave up any information about what truly lay slumbering beneath the great snow-covered castle. Not much is known about the North, other than that it's families have been around for thousands of years.

* * *

Winterfell. The great stone castle is closed off to all, but there are those who dare to try to sneak a peek at what lays inside the stone walls.

"I don't we should be here," The girl whispered, glancing around herself every few seconds, wary of what waited in the darkness.

"Would you get over it already, we're here, might as well have a look around." The boy hissed in return.

"But the stories?"

"I don't believe in any of that Red Lady crap. It's was just an empty castle, filled with treasures which no one else wanted to take. I say we take all the gold we can and come back later for what's left?"

"I don't know, something feels off." She shone the torch around. "I feel like I'm being watched."

With an irritated sigh, the boy turned. "Look, there's no one here but you, me and her." He shone the light on the only painting in the room.

"Sansa Stark, the Winter Queen." The girl said in awe of the painting. Although a smile graced her lips, there was a sadness in her eyes. Why would someone as beautiful and loved as the Queen look sad? Surely she had everything could have ever wanted? So why such sadness? "She looks so sad."

A beastly growl arose from the darkness and with it, came a beast with glowing red eyes.

"You shouldn't have come here," A man said from behind the beast, his voice soft, his face hollow and weather-beaten.

"Hey," The boy said holding up his hands in surrender. "Look we're sorry, we'll leave, okay. Just call off your pet." He pleaded as the white direwolf circled around the pair.

"I can't do that, you see, I betrayed Robb once, I'll never do the same to Sansa." He told, his blue eyes flashing in the darkness. "That, and we're both so hungry."

Their screams would not be heard. No evidence of them having been there would be found, nothing would remain.

Later, Theon would make his way below. His memories projecting images down each hall. Some were of Robb, calling out to him, others of Bran and Rickon running away from old Nan. Arya sneaking about in the day, when she should have been in bed long ago and then there was Sansa and Jon.

Dancing, they had always been dancing.

His earliest memories were of the two dancing around the great hall. Sansa, nothing but a girl with dreams of marrying someone strong and brave, while Jon had only been a boy, dreaming only of Sansa. Jon had always loved Sansa, it had just taken her a little longer to realize that she loved Jon.

Once, long ago, Theon had been one of them, part of their family. Pure-bloods were rare, they ruled over their kind with an iron fist, and those under them couldn't rebel, or at least they couldn't until the Bolten's rebelled. Ned and Catelyn Stark had chosen to go into their enteral sleep, leaving all they had to their eldest son, Robb.

Theon had been part of the Pure-bloods of the Iron Islands. It was his betrayal which had lead to Robb's death. Roose Bolten had tried to pull the power of a pure blood from Robb. He hadn't been successful, but it had given Robb an agonizing death, or so Ramsey had gloated to Theon while he'd been held captive.

It had been Sansa who came for him, sweet Sansa who had sacrificed herself for him to be free. They'd freed him, but they took so much more. Ramsay had not only broken him, but he'd pulled from within him what made him a pureblood. He was powerless, as weak as those who he'd once ruled over, he'd wished for death.

They tried to break her, rip her apart like they'd done him, but Sansa had been stronger. She'd fought, she'd never given in and she'd never allowed them to break her. It was Jon in the end who saved her, Jon who risked everything to get her back, Jon who found her.

She'd been asleep, her features far paler than they should have been. They'd tried feeding her blood to wake her, yet she'd not responded. Her skin had hardened to the point which gave her a stone-like appearance. It wasn't until much later that they realized that Ramsay had linked himself to her, binding them so that he could share in her power. Sansa, knowing what he was doing had forced herself into a dreamless sleep, and would only wake once Ramsay no longer lived. She wouldn't allow such a monster to take what was hers and use it against her family.

They'd had no choice but to leave Sansa locked away beneath the castle. None of the remaining Starks would rest until they'd awoken her, it was that in mind which lead them to leave her behind, with only him as her guardian.

He no longer had the strength of a pure-blood, but he could still fight and keep the pesky humans from entering her home.

The heavy door creaked as he entered the room, which held his sleeping Queen.

"Not long now, Sansa, and I'll get to see the castle filled with life again. See you awake, laughing and singing." He dared to reach out and brush his hand against her cheek. "You'll awaken and before I finally join Robb, I'll have the pleasure of seeing you dance once more." He'd wait because it was only when she was dancing in Jon's arms did Sansa shine brightest.

* * *

Arya stood watching the humans scurry about below, the wind tossing her cloak back and forth around her. The sky had begun to darken, the creatures of the night would soon come out to play. Sneering she turned to face her companion.

"Not long now," She said, her hand reaching for the blade strapped to her hip. She hadn't expected a reply, but still, she had to ask. "Jon?"

Jon had changed in the centuries since Arya had last seen him. In the beginning, they'd traveled as a group, until it became clear they'd need to split up to find Ramsay. Bran and Rickon, Arya and Jon, until again they'd needed to split.

They parted as a boy and a girl, only to reunite as a man and woman. They'd both grown, Arya although still quite short in height when compared to Sansa and the others, had grown in mind and body. Gone was her long brown locks, styled in a more modern short cut, her eyes had grown colder or so Rickon had told her when they'd last met decades ago by chance.

Jon too had grown, he'd left his boyhood behind, he'd grown a beard. He looked so much like their father that Arya had mistaken him when they'd first laid eyes upon each other early in the day.

"Winter is coming." Were his parting words before he dropped down below into the crowded street, disappearing into the crowd.

Arya closed her eyes for a moment and reminded herself, that while she had lost her sister Jon had lost much more.

Growing up Sansa hadn't spared Jon a second look, well, not exactly true. Once the dancing began Sansa's eyes would search the room looking for him, only ever him. No one else, not even Robb, could dance with Sansa because she'd chosen Jon as her partner long ago, even if she hadn't realized it.

Jon, their cousin raised as their brother had always loved Sansa. As a girl, Arya would often catch him during the night, peeking around corners watching Sansa play without her notice. Her perfect sister, who was everything a pure-blood lady should be, still Arya had loved her.

Arya had never understood the love the two of them shared. It wasn't until she'd been alone in the world, seeking the out all those who had betrayed her family that she found someone who showed her all the things that she'd been without.

Nymeria appeared at her side, the large Direwolf reacting to her emotions.

The Direwolf, her House sigil, it was the ancient magic which created had them. They were soul tags, created so that they took on the form of who they truly were. They were never supposed to separate, at least not for long periods, but Jon had left Ghost guarding the sleeping forms of Sansa and Lady. Arya had only separated for Nymeria once, they'd been apart for too long, the pain had been beyond words.

If Jon was in pain, he didn't show it. She knew that he often looked through Ghost's eyes, watching over their sleeping sister.

With a click, she bit down on her lip letting some of the copper blood fill her mouth before she swiped away the rest on her thumb.

The Stark sign had been sealed onto her inner wrist long ago, the mark which linked her to her siblings. Taking her bloodied thumb, she signed an S.

"Tonight is the night our family shall finally be avenged. He is the last on my list, and although it won't be me who takes his life. I shall take pleasure it seeing the light leave his eye's and know that you have awoken."

* * *

Rickon watched their prey make his way cockily through the street below. There would be no escape this time, no one to help sneak him out, and no one fight alongside him. There was no one left, just him."Will we be together again? When she awakes?"

It took decades for vampire's to age, even longer for children. His mother and father had spent many human decades with him before they entered their final slumber. Sansa and Robb were the only other parents he'd ever known, Robb was gone and Sansa asleep.

"Yes, and soon we will return home," Bran said, seated upon the back of Summer.

"Home?"

"Yes, home. Your Rickon Stark of Winterfell and when this is over, we shall return there, where Sansa waits for us."

Rickon keeps his gaze focused on Ramsey, keeping him within eyesight at all times. "The last time we were all in Winterfell, it was to say goodbye to Mother and Father, now neither they nor Robb will ever be there again."

"We'll all meet again, as is the of the old gods." Bran offered in response.

"I want everyone to stay together, I never want to part again." Without waiting for an answer he dropped to the next rooftop, remembering to stay shadows, Shaggydog mirrored his every move on the roof across from him.

He wondered if Sansa would recognize him, he'd been so young when she'd fallen asleep. For the longest time, he'd thought that she'd left them, left him, like Robb, like Mother and Father. As he grew, Bran filled him on what had really happened, and it had caused him to nearly go mad.

They'd named him the wild wolf, he'd been out of control. For the longest time, he'd forgotten who he was, who his family really were, until one night, he dreamt of her, Sansa.

He'd been alone in the dark, afraid of being left behind, when suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and there she'd been. She hugged him, whispered that he wasn't alone, that she'd always be with him, no matter how far apart they were. It wasn't until he'd awoken, that he realized that it hadn't been a dream, but a memory that was long forgotten.

"Ramsay!" Rickon's eyes narrowed as he watched the girl jump into Ramsay's arms. Myranda had been the one to lead Ramsay. Apparently, Jon had been given information about her from Theon before they parted long ago. They'd been unable to track her, until now.

The sight of a cloaked figure jumping his way, had Rickon on alert, although as soon as the landed it became clear it was only Arya.

"Jon's about to make his move, you ready?"

Shaggydog's green eyes flashed from the opposite roof.

"I'm ready to go home," Rickon said, watching as Jon dispatched Myranda and took hold of Ramsay.

Finally, they were ready to go home.

* * *

"There was a sick pleasure in taking Ramsay's life, knowing that it was him who destroyed the person who had taken Sansa from them.

All his life Jon had loved but one girl, Sansa. From the moment they'd met, he'd willingly handed over his heart for her to do with it as she pleased. She hadn't loved him as he loved her until they were almost grown, decades spent pining for a girl who only looked to him for a dance.

It was him who twirled her around the dance floor. He'd loved how she only sought out him to dance, how she'd search the room until her eyes found him. Having her in his arms, was what gave him life and it was Ramsay who had taken all of that away.

The last night they'd had together, they had danced in the Gods Woods, beneath the Gods Tree, the full moon reflecting in the hot springs. It was there he had confessed his undying love and asked her to spend the rest of their immortality together.

She promised them a forever, but only after she saved Theon. She'd said, that she knew the older brother he'd been was still inside him, that the boy who'd longed to be Stark was still there, and that she couldn't give him forever knowing that she hadn't tried to save him because it's what Robb would have wanted.

Had he known the outcome, he'd never had let her go. Had he known Ramsay would break his word, he'd have killed before he could take her from him. Instead, he'd lost Sansa. The love of his life and without her, he didn't know how to love.

"Jon?"

It's through Ghost's red eyes does he see her awaken, hear her breath his name, and he knows that he can again face the world. Life will be good, and he will never allow them to be parted again.


End file.
